


The Lull of Gently Crashing Waves

by Fox_Salz



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dream Bubble Sex (Homestuck), Dream Bubbles, F/F, Fish Puns, Nook Fingering (Homestuck), Puns & Word Play, Self-cest, Underwater Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 14:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Salz/pseuds/Fox_Salz
Summary: Two Feferis spend time together, comparing timelines and enjoying the like-minded company.





	The Lull of Gently Crashing Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it only appropriate that for my 38th Homestuck fic I dedicate it to Feferi.

The dream bubbles are complex and simple all at once. Profound yet oddly mundane. Dense and sparse, a hurricane and a gentle lull. Time is both meaningless and ever expansive. What do you know about Time, though? You’re Life—ironic yet absolutely apt. After all, thanks to you (every you, somehow and obviously) the dream bubbles exist as that second chance, that Life after Life. It’s thanks to you this ever changing stasis exists, housing those who were, those who will be no more, reaching all the way back to before the bubbles existed in a retroactive Time reach around shenanigan.

In other words, you have been here for a while. Yet when you peek at your still living friends they’re all still going at the same pace they were, completely removed from the bubbles. You feel old and young and unknowable all at once.

The nice thing about the bubbles is that your body doesn’t have to stay like how it was when you died. Your hair, your clothes, all malleable. You can even age up after being there long enough! Just a few years it seems like, but being nine sweeps is better than six. You’ve got some killer rumble spheres!

Right now you’re walking along a beach. It’s not your memory, or your companion’s. It’s pretty, though. Alternian for sure, purples and tyrians decorating the sky between the twin moons, a troll hive in the distance. You do love a good beach.

You’re walking with an alternate self. There are a lot of dead Feferis. Many of them end up as a sprite fusion. Sometimes with Sollux (they have highest highs and lowest lows, no in between), at least once with Karkat (they were surprisingly upbeat but also incredibly vicious), twice that you’ve seen with Equius (STRONG). Mostly though you’re prototyped with Nepeta. Other yous, anyway. You and the Feferi you’re with were never sprited. Which you both think is such a shame! It looks like so much fun! Especially with Nepeta. You always wanted to spend more time with her. She’s always been so sweet and such a delight.

The two of you had met up in a bubble and started traveling together, comparing your different timelines. It’s interesting to see what’s changed and what seems to be a universal constant.

“My Erifin finally trolled up and got into a kismesitude with Shoallux,” she tells you.

“Mine stayed with Fishka even though I kelp tryfin to confince him she was just stringing him along.”

“Water disaster.”

You both sigh in unison and say, “He’s so hateable.”

She catches your eye—your goggles are gone, hers are around her neck—and bumps your elbows together. You grin wide at her which she easily matches, fangs glinting in the moonlight. At the risk of sounding narcissistic, she’s _hot_.

The beach ends and your companion conjures up a new memory: a beautiful waterfall. It’s high up, twenty feet or more, and even from a good distance away the water slamming against rocks at the bottom is an all encompassing sound.

She takes your hand and pulls you along as she runs for it. Her laughter rings out like bells and you can’t help laughing, too. This Feferi knows how to have a good time!

You rush under the pouring water. It’s as cold as your blood and feels so refreshing. Your gills flare, taking it in greedily. For a moment you two just stand there, side-by-side, enjoying the cascade. You steal a few glances at your alternate, fins wiggling at the serenity that’s washed over her. Also, admittedly, at how the water has slicked her clothing so now it clings to her body enticingly.

She catches your eye and your cheeks burn. She just laughs and asks if you want to dive down the waterfall. Absolutely you do, and the pair of you race up the cliff. Neither of you are the best climbers, being seadwellers after all with bodies more attuned to the water but you travel fearlessly. Of course you’re already ghosts so there’s no real danger, but you like to think that even alive you wouldn’t have been hesitant. Maybe a bit more careful, but certainly wouldn’t have cluckbeasted out.

When you reach the top she locks hands with you. You share a smile, pump biscuit pounding regardless that it’s not a tangible thing anymore because you expect it to, before jumping off together. You let out a wild, feral holler from deep within your core that she echoes, and the waterfall reverberates it across the bubble.

The two of you land with a wild splash in the middle of the pool below. You bounce up to the surface first, followed by your partner. You squeeze her hand and revel in both the adrenaline coursing through you and the ever present warmth from her dazzling smile. She flicks water at your face and your fins wiggle. Before you can retaliate she resumes your previous conversation.

“My Arabalone and I were matesprits for a whale, on the meteor. Then she had to explode and I was krilled,” she says.

“Hard to have a relationship like that, yeah. I never got the chance for anyfin searious after breaking up with Erifin. Almoist got Crabsnack in my spades, though.”

Feferi giggles before dunking her head underwater. Grinning yourself, you follow suit. You swim around playfully, tugging each other’s hair and skirts. This water hole isn’t very deep, twelve feet tops, so you feel like cuttlefish in a bowl. It’s fine for a while, but eventually you need more room.

This time you supply the memory, a beautiful rocky cove that you didn’t realize you had missed so much until seeing it again. Finding a nice spot to bask in the moonlight, you lay out on a long flat rock while she bobs on the water below you. Idly you keep discussing your timelines. Nothing in particular, just whatever comes to mind.

“My Teresea, before the game, needed an auspistice for her and Erifin. Krillnaya stepped up.”

“How did that end?”

“Fishka.”

That’s all she needs to say on the matter. You nod knowingly, leaning back on your rock and lifting your face to the twin moons. Even if Alternia only had the green moon as a means for getting the timeline how it needed to be for everything to fall into place, and its existence technically added to making your world a terrifying shithole, you still think it’s quite lovely. That’s funny, isn’t it? How something can suck so much but still be necessary and even nice to look at. Paradox Space is complex.

It makes you think of your lusus.

“You know, for all the troububble it was feeding her, and the conchtant worry about kelping her voice down, Gl’bgolyb was a good lusus.”

  
She’s the only one you could really tell this to, you think. She knows exactly where you’re coming from. How complicated it was. Still is.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I miss her.”

“She cared, even if she was a giant emissary of the horrorterrors that could easily destroy all of trollkind and added to the affect of making our world—“

“So glubbing terribubble?”

“Mhm.”

Again your partner sighs in agreement, with a wistfulness you feel deep in your bones. You loved her, despite what she stood for and what you had to do. You love her even now knowing more truths than what her whispers had supplied.

After a long, quiet moment, the only sound the gentle crashing of waves, suddenly you’re being assaulted with water and the night echos out with a chiming laugh.

“Race you,” she says, and you can’t resist.

You dive into the water beside her—already turning around and ducking under—and speed downwards and out. She’s just a fraction ahead of you. You admire her even as you try to beat her. Her body is toned, firm, solid, but moves smoothly in the water. It’s a gorgeous sight. Her ass is _nice_. You’ve decided to fully embrace this narcissism.

You give it your all but she reaches the bottom just a fraction before you, your fingertips brushing against the rocks as her palm spreads out. It’s close. Your pump biscuit is pounding and gills flaring. You may not have won but her wide grin that shows off deadly fangs feels like its own victory. The desire to press your mouths together surges through you, and you decide there’s no reason to deny it.

It’s a rush, kissing her. Her arms snake around your waist and hands meet at the small of your back, pulling you against her. Your own hand runs up her chest and to a fin, caressing the tines. She reverberates with a trill that doesn’t sound underwater; you can feel it deeply in you, though, and match it with your own rumble.

There’s heat between you but neither lets it consume you. You let that wick flicker slow and long, just touching and enjoying each other. You pull down one shoulder of her suit top then the other while she bunches up your skirts in her hands. You free her rumble spheres and feel them up. Definitely as good as your own. You squeeze and fondle with abandon, thumbs flicking her nipples. She moans into your mouth and tugs your skirt imploringly.

It’s an enticing idea so you help each other shed it all. Without a care you let the clothes float away; you’ll just reimagine them on you later. You suppose you could have just magic’d them off of you, but there’s such an exhilaration doing it this way. It lets you trace her grubscars as you get her suit off, lets her drag claws across your thighs. Neither of you want to keep your hands to yourself. Or bulges. Hers unsheathes first and absolutely gets in the way, constantly trying to wiggle between your fingers. You try to give it enough attention to momentarily placate it but it’s a needy thing and just begs for more. Demands, more like.

Your own little horrorterror is a bit shyer, though no less enthused. She manages to coax it out with just a few strokes of your bone bulge, and then it’s climbing all over her arm or rubbing against her thighs.

It’s amazing to press your naked bodies together. You’ve pailed before, but it’s different when it’s with a body you’re familiar with just from a different angle. You know where to touch her to elicit all the best little reactions, to get her fins and eyelids fluttering. Her hand grips your hip tight when you tweak her nipple, head falls back and mouth opens in a glubbing gasp when you hike her leg up and trail fingers from the crook of her knee to her nook lips before plunging a finger in.

You lean over, biting her collarbone. Just like you, she loves it. Her nook clenches around your finger. You hook and wiggle it a little, letting go of her collarbone to nuzzle against her neck.

Idly you contemplate going deeper. It’s been a while since you’ve swam down very far. You’ve hardly gone sixty feet right now which is nothing to a fuchsia. The ground drops off again about twenty feet westward. You maneuver the two of you that way, your partner putting up no resistance. When you step off the edge she wraps her legs around your waist, ankles locking. Her hands are trapped between you two with just enough leeway to fondle your rumble spheres. Your bulges have tangled together and they pulse in unison; both are enthralled with each other and the shared pleasure, eager for more.

You go down and down and down, rapid fire warping the memory so it only takes you minutes to reach the midnight zone as opposed to hours. As soon as darkness takes over everything, you both light up with pale pink spots of bioluminescence all across your bodies. The glow just makes her more beautiful. Arousal flips in your gut and your fins are all aflutter. Your cheeks feel hot against the cool of the water surrounding you.

You let yourselves keep falling as you get lost in each other. The bathyal zone turns into the abyssal, darkness and chill increasing. It would be simple to have this bubble stop that, but you’ve missed this, and you’ve never gotten the opportunity to pail down this far, especially not feeling the real affects of the ocean.

During your descent you stretch your partner open enough to get two more fingers in her. She’s buried her face against your neck, and again you can feel her steady trill. It makes you eager to do so many different things! Not one to ever have a lacking imagination, dozens of prospects dance through your pan. You can’t get through them all in a single go, of course, so you settle on something that doesn’t require much alteration of your current positions.

You grab her ass and encourage her to grind. She takes to it like a fish to water. You let out an inaudible gasp, eyes closing for a moment as you bask in the sensation. Friction works differently underwater, and the coiling of your bulges is smooth but not lesser. It’s easy to rock together, letting the pleasure build up and up so tantalizingly slow. You flex your fingers inside of her, feel the strengthening of her trill that urges you to keep going. Her claws dig into you, scratching across your back and making you arch against her. Then she leans down and bites your shoulder and it brings you so _close_.

Barely managing to hold on, you work your fingers faster and squeeze her firm ass with excessive force. She doesn’t mind, still moving against you. She’s more erratic now, and you know she’s getting to the edge, too. Deciding you’ve waited long enough, you both keep going like that, chasing the mounting pleasure. It doesn’t take much longer for you both to pail, her first, the clenching of her nook that extra push to finish.

You stay there for a bit, holding onto each other and floating around. All your combined slurry was carried off by the water, you know even though it’s too dark to see besides your twinkling bioluminescence. When they fade out you’ll think about shifting to a different bubble, retrieving your clothes. For now though you just enjoy the afterglow.

For all the differences your timelines might have had, it was interesting to explore the similar. How alike these two versions of you are. Same blood, same style, same humor. Same things turning you on. Same hot ass.

You shake with laughter that she mimics, and you feel she’s having the same thoughts. You hold her tighter, pushing away some of her long flowing hair, and rest your cheek on the top of her head, letting your horns brush together. You sigh, gills flaring out, and continue basking in the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> All the selfcest I've written so far have been seadwellers lmao.


End file.
